Published by SEVENSTORE
Author: Millie Throp
The Birkenstock story is a folklore of sorts, where in the immediate frame, the Arizona Sandal or Boston Clog might not scream ‘subversive icon’ at first glance, but more so ‘cork bed’ or ‘comfort’. Yet, consider the brand as a pillar of Paganistic liberation; an aid to feminist rebellion; a look to glory-days upon the collapse of the Berlin wall, and this bracing fable will release like their shining, branded buckles.
Gaining global prestige through artisanal methods dating back to 1744, the brand’s credible styles have inevitably earned themselves other handles along the way. Notably: ‘monk shoes,’ ‘granolas,’ ‘tree huggers,’ ‘beatniks,’ and ‘Birks.’ With a form-follows-function approach separating the label’s strokes from other footwear options, Birkenstock offers an antithesis to fads, embraced instead by leagues of timeless dressers and radical guerrillas alike.
Hand-making shoes from self-produced leather, the Germanic Birkenstock brothers started out as content craftsmen in the rural Langen-Bergheim. In the late 1700s and early 1800s, weather conditions in the area were tough, calling on the deftly hands of shoemakers for pragmatism and longevity. With many owning one pair their whole life, their nation’s circular system juxtaposed today’s materialistic landscape, with artisans on hand to fix any that broke.
But fast forward to 1873, when a young Konrad Birkenstock was born into the crescendo of the Industrial Revolution. A disparate backdrop laid contrast to earlier, simpler times, with his childhood populated instead with coal and steel as traditional methods were mechanised in the face of consumer demand. Beckoning to their new reality, the family relocated to Frankfurt in search of the workforce they had been stripped from, unbeknown that their factory would remain there in years to come, and eventually shape a global movement.
Keeping up the family trade, 23-year-old Konrad had integrated his fixing of the inaccuracies of machine-made shoes, despite his smoke-fogged surroundings. With the maker still regarding small-scale handicraft as a tool for betterment, a side-line project in 1896 reclaimed the prosperity of his heritage skillset. Creating a mould for shoemakers to distinguish left and right feet, he then perfected an anatomical shoe last a year later. Carving the Birkenstock name into a small part of history, the industry transformed around the apprentice, standardising his last for mass-production.
In approaching the 1900s, local German fringes became unsettled by their increasingly capitalised society, wishing to unify mind and body as they looked back to the Pagan lifestyles of their ancestors. Enter: Lebensreform – or ‘life-reform’ – a movement placing emphasis on the good of nature and community, revoking the consequences of industrialisation. With rebellious turns defining the zeitgeist, the Wandervogel – or ‘wandering bird’ – movement followed in 1896, holding similar values, but with a heavier association to melodic folk music, and upheld by the younger generation. Characterised by hiking, singing and creative dress, the countercultures stood for a liberation of love – working to live, instead of living to work. So, the groups sought new uniforms, with soothing footwear beckoning their strive for greater social autonomy.
Konrad felt driven to establish his own cause having empowered his nation from their foundations upwards, becoming known as “the shoe-reform” movement. Bolstered by his inventive trajectory, he announced the first contoured arch support in 1902, emerging the family business as grounds to further unite wellbeing with progression. Catering ‘Lebensreform’ values to specify the importance of foot care, he replaced metal insoles with flexible materials. Abandoning the separations between ‘health’ and ‘everyday’ shoes, he ensured the daily grind was eased by his arch supports. And, finally, in 1913, he registered the ‘Fussbett’ – introducing the curved, ergonomic elements of today’s Birkenstock footbeds – with the malleability of cork and latex bringing his progressive ideations to a crux.
Throughout the 20s, 30s and 40s, Konrad travelled across Europe, joined by his son Carl. Sharing what he had coined ‘The Birkenstock System’, Carl taught a new way of producing shoes, incorporating the family’s flexible Fussbett and orthopaedic lasts. With physicians, medical professionals, and recovering soldiers the few groups celebrating its technology, their laborious lifestyles stood as proof that Birkenstock creations were built to last; the label’s disruptive insoles proved an irrepressible force against the changing conditions of industrial Germany.
With the brand’s designs deemed to be existing outside of the fashion realm, a seeming ultimatum presented itself at the turn of the 1960s. By this time, Karl, a 4th generation grandson, was leading Birkenstock’s direction amongst a backdrop of youth culture. Looking to the future, German architecture of the era boasted Brutalist, post-war reconstruction, highlighting the country as one of resilience and the shoemaker as a steady force amongst this. The nation’s defiant infrastructure worked to spur the brand’s first footwear release, the Madrid Sandal, paralleling a genre-defining moment with its long-lasting, exposed construction.
Meanwhile, over the pond in the United States, German natives had been settling for around 60 years, seeking a lifestyle that reflected their back-to-nature thought pools. With many choosing southern California as a base for this, their ideas migrated from the ‘Lebensreform’ and ‘Wandervogel’ movements began to gain traction, bringing with them fresh influence and care-free ways of living. Setting up the country’s first health food stores, the settlers’ actions almost pre-emptively crafted a domain for Birkenstock to succeed as a health-conscious outfitter, with local shop owners placing the Madrid Sandal amongst their granola isles. Made entirely of natural materials, its rejection from fashion was also being reflected at shoe-fairs back in Düsseldorf, despite going on to be one of the brand’s most widely cherished styles.
By the mid 1960s, American jazz artist Nat King Cole had released a song titled “Nature Boy”, referencing the German-originating counterculture that Birkenstock had championed for generations. Underlining Cole’s beliefs was the lyric, “the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved”, allowing such ideals to widespread around the USA. In 1967, many had moved on to northern California in time for the synonymous ‘Summer of Love’ in San Francisco. Young people danced away their suspicions of ascending consumerism and frets of the concurrent war in Vietnam. Nicknamed ‘hippies’, ‘flower children’ and ‘bohemians’, the community wore loose fitting chemises and moved in crowds to psychedelic beats, unbound by restrictive footwear or the conservative standards expected outside of their harmony, with supportive Birkenstock soles caressing their feet.
Back in Germany, Karl continued to work away from the spiritual subversion taking place in the Bay Area. Equipped with dual-straps and glistening hardware, the Arizona Sandal was released in 1973, exploding popularity throughout its lifespan, and remaining part of the brand’s core collection today. Apple inventor Steve Jobs was an early supporter of the silhouette, its consistent, artisanal strokes providing respite against the movements of tech giants in Silicon Valley at the time. With Jobs’ style since credited as ‘normcore’, his affection highlighted the label’s position as an alternative staple to mainstream trends.
In 1976, their Boston Clog was born. Offering a closed-toe model, it highlighted that despite releasing new styles and being adopted across international waters, the brand stayed true to its practical Bavarian grassroots. With this, Karl’s design pursuits thrived whilst hippie dress sense defined the US landscape less and less, reflecting the changing style codes of the mid to late century. As casual looks seeped into Anglo-American fashion, slogan t-shirts and Arizona Sandals offered an anti to the impending shoulder pads and pant suits of the 80s.
By 1990, the brand’s bloodline had seen 200 years of shoemaking. And with function frequenting its timeline so intensely, Birkenstock’s fashion stance finally began gaining traction. Marking this was an elusive, 16-year-old Kate Moss in Rio and Palermo Sandals for zany UK magazine, ‘The Face.’ The significant 8-page spread announced “The 3rd Summer of Love”, a rebirth of Youthquake that came decades before. Putting Birkenstock at the face of another yippie-kindled uprising, the year saw controversial Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher resign, sparking a period of release as the brand became a face of freedom in Britain.
Though subtle in appearance, Birkenstock’s styles increasingly vocalised the thoughts of those in aversion to global, political landscapes as decades passed. Third-wave feminists of 90s America continued this agenda, wearing its sandals at rallies. Striving to rise from archaic gender roles and racial prejudices, their heels found solace in the same non-conformist, flatbed comfort as other, bygone activists. Further interwoven with a timeline of revolution, the brand’s unchanging, back-to-basics approach acted as a place of consistency amongst contemporary issues, a style to lean into for honesty and ease.
The 90s also saw the fall of the Berlin Wall, entering Germany into a state of celebration as its East and West sides were reunited. Birkenstock opened new manufacturing sites around the country, providing thousands of jobs. Having liberated cultures across the globe, this reaffirmed the label’s closeness to its home country, allocating each factory to specialise in one aspect of its authentic shoemaking process.
In 2004, the term ‘Birkenstock liberals’ appeared in the lexicon of US Congress scripts, continuing its politicised path by categorising left-wing voters with the eco-conscious decedents of past times. Although an intended derogative, the associations did not offend the label’s trajectory but underlined its connection with individualism, encouraging generations of freethinkers through the nurturing of a soft yet structural base.
In more recent years and furthering this standpoint of empowerment, the brand’s feature in Greta Gerwig’s latest, feminist-accredited 2023 ‘Barbie’ movie saw a pink edition appear in the final scene. As ‘Stereotypical Barbie’s’ cultural awakening provoked compromising heels to be traded for comforting flats, the label once again affirmed its universal uniform, where liberation begins from the sole.
As Reichert summarises, “people increasingly want realness. We have a real product. Its timelessness adds to its appeal, especially in the current time. We are a counterpoint to wasteful fast fashion”, he highlights, pointing to an ethical, localised approach where long-lasting construction is as timeless as a minimalist outline. With around 25% of Germany’s footwear workers employed by Birkenstock, the label is “more than a brand; it’s rather like a religion,” he concludes.
Spanning over the once family-owned entity’s halcyon days of micromanufacturing and rural revolutions, it becomes apparent that whilst coming far, it has not strayed from its goal of “walking like nature intended”. Treading carefully, in respect of its bloodline and tradesman past, the brand proudly continues to dress the ground force of international nurses, chefs and manual labourers. Its footbed comprising moulded jute, cork, latex, and leather, transcending eras where no matter what the circumstance, one pair of Birkenstocks could march, stand, or dance through a lifetime.